Late Star Rising Part 3 : Stars at Twilight
by Sapphira Antares
Summary: Nakago faces his desires to change his life while being tormented by his humanity and his love for Soi. Flashbcks, angst and psychological, Nakago-sympathetic tale with a final flourish.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** This story is an amateur work of fanfiction. The content of this story is the creation of the author, although based on the Anime "Fushigi Yuugi", and is not intended for profit. Idon't own "Fushigi Yuugi" or any of its characters. I have created a few characters for this fic, but they are unnamed.

**Warning!** SPOILERS for the last episodes of Fushigi Yuugi, violence, slight language, rape, and character death all intended for dramatic and artistic purposes only.

**Author's Note:** Nakago is at the threshold of choices he must make between his heart and his ambitions. Could he adjust himself, face and make the right choices, or would he just let the shadows of his past consume him? And how important is Soi's role in the twilight of his life? **Please Review!**

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**STARS AT TWILIGHT**

**PROLOGUE**

One humid evening of late spring,two figures were approaching a small village within a small province of the then rejuvenating Kutou empire on foot. The larger figure, upon closer inspection, was a broad, stocky build of a woman with strong hips and shoulders, plainly clad and carrying a large cane basket full of what looked like clothes on her left arm. Her right hand clutched the tiny wrist of a small child in a hat, wearing a dusty brown garment so oversized that it often trailed along the pebbly road, picking up leaves and pebbles as they went.

Any casual observer would notice in a short span of time that the woman was aged and failing, perhaps well over seventy on in her late sixties, while the child, young as it was, looked fresh and filled with life.

The woman noticed the child shivering as the late wind blew gently upon them, but the child; a curious little thing, was trying to conceal that fact from her – talking about some other things of interest about them like odd shaped stones and scattering squirrels as well as strange noises within the woods and asking the old one scores of questions.

"Time for a little rest, dear," said the old woman, wiping her brow as she proceeded to sit down upon a large slab of stone.

"But nanny,"

"Now, now, Nanny's tired. Nanny needs rest."

The child settled upon the long grasses on the roadside that emitted a fresh, dusky scent, fed and fanned by the gentle gust of the twilight air until the whole place as astir with a delectable scent. The child got very delighted as it sniffed the air.

"Hyacinths, nanny! I could smell them!"

The woman smiled as the child groped around the grass to find the source of such a refreshing scent, fanning herself with one of the clothes from her basket. At her leisure she traced the smell herself as her gaze went higher – from grass, to trees, to the distant mountains; and finally it rested upon the twilight sky.

The child looked up at once. "Are the stars out, nanny?"

"Yes, they are," she replied. "But not much of them yet, I'm afraid." She knew how much interested in stars the child has been at such a young age.

"What about the stars of Seiryu?"

"They're nearly setting – look. You can see them now," she said, pointing to the heavens.

**End prologue**


	2. Why won't you remove your Armour for me?

**WHY WON'T YOU REMOVE YOUR ARMOR FOR ME?**

They were some few thousand in all. They were ready, and they were valiant, eager to shed blood in an innumerable proportion; egged and cheered on by thousands more of like-minded people. They had prepared for this day a long time, trained under brave, war-worn commanders, trained for conquest and pillage and total domination that imperial Kutou would once again reclaim its place in this world as it had done in days of old.

If need be, Konan will be crushed and driven from existence as Kutou had done to the Hin tribe over a decade ago.

Even the gods were smiling upon them now. Seiryu himself had awakened from his ancient slumber. His Seishi were ready – a few of them who had remained alive; and the rest who had so willingly given up their lives for the cause would too, be remembered and honored above all others. They had returned from their glorious quest to summon the great Eastgod; though lesser in number than they had been when they first departed, and their Miko was with them; a fragile girl, but Miko nonetheless, for she has done her deed. She has summoned Seiryu for them, and what else was there to ask of her? A simple wish, or three?

Seiryu has granted her three omnipotent wishes. The great blue dragon-god of the eastern sky dwells within her, and made her god as he.

That was Nakago – the strongest, and most loyal of the Seishi's plan: Three, simple wishes to destroy or heal a world for the Miko's perusal, and _him_, lingering behind the insecure little girl of a Miko to veer her on.

The plain upon which they encamped, only a few miles away from Kutou's capital was a vast, barren stretch of pure aridity that went on for miles and miles on end under a vast concave of dull grey sky, made somber all the more for the weary troops of Konan who encamped at the opposite side, for this was a war they had never wished nor asked for. Now, the scales of the gods have even tipped against them entirely.

Nakago stood before his tent upon a jutting fissure of a small rocky hill with a clear view of his enemies' camp, his slender blue eyes tracing the encampment before him. His fair-skinned hands gripped the leather reins of his great brown steed. The animal had become restless, seeing the hubbub of activity brewing , small looking chariots moving, small Konan soldiers lining up and shouting at each other. It could not hear the noise, but like its master, could feel it, knowing that it would ride to war soon. A hot wave of wind rammed against horse and master in small, but sudden spurts, making it more restless. Nakago gently patted it at its side, stroking it by its long, coarse mane. He understood what it wanted, what it had been longing for. It was something it was reared for – something it lived for; like Nakago himself, the thrill of conflict, the excitement of war and conquest; served under superiors, sometimes forced to do their bidding; but in the end – a free spirited soul that no outsider had a part in. Together they had spanned the entire stretch of Kutou through wind and rain, jumped over ravines, raced herds of cattle and tore through sleepy villages.

As Nakago blinked, other thoughts began to enter his mind. All throughout his earlier youth he himself had been like that – reared, bound on a leash, trained for one purpose; trained under superiors who were so authoritative and omnipotent over him that they had every right to make him do their bidding whether such biddings were acceptable or not. But deep inside, he had this spirit that was entirely his own, not something they could control or ever would – a motive, hidden, obscure, covered by layers and layers of a domineering forces. He had allowed to be guided by this spirit alone, and as it matured, the spirit had become a motive. He remembered swearing to the heavens for its sake, swearing to the gods in front of their unseen faces.

With his eyes trailing from the great arid stretches westward to the point where the morning sun rose in a symphony of light and gold; the Konan encampment, he realized, spread all across the plain – like meat on a platter, like sheep before the waiting wolves. A gentle smirk appeared on his handsome countenance at the slightest thought of it. It was something he had not allowed himself to bother with in its entirety: why had they persisted with the war and mustered themselves to resist when Seiryu himself had banished their patron-god Suzaku, sealing him off to the depths of the nether? Perhaps they prefer to go down fighting than give in. They lost, anyway. Perhaps they were chasing foolish romantic visions far-fetched from reality – like hope and hollow promises they have made themselves. If _those_ were a part of him (and they were not), they were gone now, left to a simpler time in a world that was once a part of him : now totally alien.

His horse whinnied gently, sensing movement from behind them. Soi, attired in a simple white garb that flowed down to her ankles came out of Nakago's tent. They had spend the night together, the way they had done so many times before, but it was a strangely sullen Nakago who was the first to rise without waking her. Her lovely red hair was loose, flowing like a banner in the dusty wind. Nakago did not notice her, or bothered to at present, but if he had taken the time to turn around and face his lover, he would have seen that her heart-shaped face and milk-white features were fresh and free of make-up, for she had not yet dressed for the day's battle that might as well be their last.

It was only when she approached him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder that he fully apprehended her presence. When Nakago casually turned around halfway, he saw at his leisure that her beautiful features had flourished much more so in the light of the morning, for her delicate garment had emphasized the vivacity of her womanly attractiveness. It was something he had not exactly seen before – a strange nobility that dare challenge queens and empresses, mothers and wives. His response however, was something else Soi had not expected nor anticipated.

"Order the troops to get ready in an hour," said Nakago, his manner formal and business-like as he turned his back on her.

"I .. will," replied Soi with slightly raised eyebrows.

"I have heard word that the Suzaku Seishi are coming to battle with their Miko," continued the Shogun, his voice cold and emotionless as he continued to stroke his restless animal. "Their persistence is interesting, but no matter. The day will end sooner than they know."

Soi backed away as she dropped her hand from her Shogun's shoulder. His long, golden hair emitted strange spots upon her eyes as the sun's rays fell on them. He had not even bothered to look at her as he spoke. There was something sort of a cold demeanor in his voice that she could not grasp at all.

"But why have they bothered to come?" she asked him. "Why not surrender themselves to us instead of coming when their powers have left them? Don't they realize that with Lady Yui now united with Seiryu, a simple wish is all we need to bring this to an end?" She halted as the horse made sounds of unrest and looked at the encampment stretching before them. "Have you any thoughts about that at all, Nakago?"

"They are fools," Nakago said simply.

"You too realize, of course, that our fates too depend totally upon Lady Yui," continued Soi. "If she wishes, we ourselves would fare all the worse. I'm sure you –"

"That is not something I have overlooked," he halted her in mid-speech, still keeping his broad shouldered back to his lover the same way he would talk to a common soldier, and not someone with whom he had shared his bed. He left, leading the horse with him, saying nothing else.

Within minutes, Soi had put on her armour and arranged her hair. As she discarded her feminine garment, throwing it on her bed, she looked at it and sighed.

What did she lack … what have she not done to tell _him_ how she felt? But he would not care … he never cared. He never cared at all.

Her mind went back some months into the past, a little before all this madness started. She had bore him a child – a child she had lost. A child gone forever, born out of both love and pain … a child she would never see again. Nakago never knew that. But if he had, would he care?

He never cared. Never. He had eyes only for _her_, that insecure, selfish little girl of a Miko.

Soi looked away from the mirror, blinking back tears. A female Seishi stared back at her from its cold surface sadly. The shelf beside the mirror had an assortment of cosmetics she had used. They only mocked her – she knew, but she picked up a small glass bottle and opened it and collected the clear liquid streaming out of it at her fingertips and dabbed it behind her ears. She looked at herself again and breathed deeply.

She could not really bring herself to approach his tent. She would do anything to avoid him at this time; but the army commanders had informed her that all was ready and the troops were waiting for the Shogun's word. Suboshi was restless with impatience, as were the soldiers for the final battle – and victory as well, for who could stop them now?

Before Soi could lift the Shogun's tent flap, she was somewhat surprised by the appearance of the Seiryu no Miko who came out and bumped into her. As their eyes met, Yui frowned and ran off without a word, Soi's eyes lingering upon her for as long as they could. When Soi stepped inside Nakago's tent, the scene that welcomed her made her gasp in surprise and awe.

Nakago was sitting with his back to the entrance, sitting in front of something that looked like an illusion of a modern day city street with tall, rectangular dwellings, broad grey roads and chariots of steel. Soi clapped her hands to her mouth, stifling a small gasp. She had never seen such a magnificent sight in all her years at all.

"What .. was that?" she asked him as the vision faded. Nakago did not reply directly as he turned around in a casual fashion, but took the time to speculate her surprise and looked lavished.

"That was Lady Yui's homeworld," he replied. "A fascinating little sight, don't you think?"

"Well, I suppose …" she replied, but felt vaguely immersed in it as Yui's name sounded off her love's lips. "But what does it mean?"

Nakago's face twitched with a slight smirk as he left his seat and paced off, his back turned to her again. "To rule over it would be a glorious thing," he said.

But there was something Soi noticed in his tone that sounded ever so slightly – an indifference and vague interest lingering in his silky voice, almost as if Nakago was playing with his words.

Soi did not capture why Nakago would shift his attention upon a world they knew nothing of, or its existence at this particular moment, but made no contradiction to his proclamation. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Nakago sat back on his chair and gazed at her. The look he wore on his face and the way his eyes glittered made the hairs at the back of Soi's neck stand on end. What was he planning? Was this one war not enough? Was he trying to push Seiryu's power to an unknown realm … and what price was there to pay in this ordeal?

"I assume, you realize that Yui has made it all possible to our advantage," continued Nakago in that same business-like manner. "She has done us a good turn – knowing all the risks involved. She clearly has an edge over Suzaku no Miko when it comes to taking risks, for a price." He looked at her smoothly, and his lips trailed to a smile. "What would we do without her?"

She would not take it anymore. Her heart was boiling inside, her patience at an edge; and her passion domineering over her instincts.

"I am sure Yui has done _you_ a good turn," she retorted. "Bearing in mind all the ends _you_ had gone to for her. Why … I cannot imagine anything _you _would not go through to claim her, don't you think, Nakago? Even removing your armor , making yourself vulnerable for her?" she added sharply, feeling an intense heat rushing to her cheeks as his cold eyes rested on her. "But Nakago – why," she paused looking at him clearly in the eye, her nerves shivering. "Why won't you remove your armor for _me_?"

"I have removed my armor for you so many times," he replied in a disinterested manner, after a short pause, "that I have actually lost count of them."

"But that was only to boost your chi. It was essential," replied Soi, slightly alarmed at Nakago's lack of interest in her question. "You know the way my powers work. I .. I actually meant – "

Nakago vaguely lifted his gaze off her face, suddenly getting up from his seat and made for the entrance. As he lifted the tent flap, he turned back, his face inscrutable.

"There is only one woman who could give me what I want," he said coldly. "And that is not you."

As he left, Soi crumpled on the same seat upon which Nakago sat, tears stinging in her eyes.

**Continued next chapter!**


	3. BrothelSong

**Disclaimer: I don't own the song! Don't sue, please!**

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**BROTHEL-SONG**

A Small township within the Kutou Empire, eight years ago.

_Itooshi hito no tame ni_

_Ima nani ga, dekiru ka na?_

_For the one I love,_

_Now what can I do?_

Sang a woman with long, raven-black hair that flowed over her hips, in slow, soft tunes as she ran a floral patterned comb through her perfumed tresses, sitting outside a dismal-looking house with a huge board hanging at the front. Several other women came and went, clutching by the arm rugged looking men; many of them Kutou soldiers heavily armored. Some were too drunk to walk straight; some too busy with lusty bites and kisses, that partitions and borders seemed nothing but a long gone memory.

A young girl with a pretty heart-shaped face was drawing water from a well under the light of the moon's first quarter. The well was shaded by a spreading cherry-tree. She was very young indeed, and her vivid red hair and milk-white skin often attracted alluring, unwanted gazes from the coarse pimps and customers that place generally welcomed, like a tender, but slowly maturing blossom ready to be picked for its beauty and was soon doomed to be discarded to wither after the work is done. The girl looked up as a pink petal fell on the water from up above, disturbing the calmness of its dark, cold surface and was delighted that the cherry blossoms were so fast in coming. It took a little effort to climb and pick them, and succeeding it made her very happy.

She waited shyly, her head lowered; as a bare-breasted woman blind with drink and reeking so fumbled past her, half leaning, half climbing on the back of a pudgy, toad-faced man. The couple scuttled past the singing woman with black hair and collapsed on the wooden floor a few paces away with hoarse laughs that drowned out the latter's song. The singer, strangely enough, did not halt her music nor pause the motion of the ivory-toothed comb running through her smooth hair. She did not squint nor look up, continuing her melody as if nothing had happened. It was not a new occasion to her. She had seen happenings like these a hundred times before.

_Kana wa nai yume wa nai yo!_

_Massugu ni, shinjite'ru_

_There is no dream that cannot come true!_

_I truly believe._

The girl with red hair finished pouring water into the big wooden barrel beside the porch where the singer sat. Three more pimps entered the premises, blind drunk as usual. The young one shrank away with fear behind the singing woman, who waved them away with her comb, her dreamy face getting cross and sullen for a brief moment before fading away to a complete indifference. She pointed them inside the lantern-lit brothel and there they went to savour what it would provide them besides the rich, spicy seductive scent coming out of it. The woman breathed deeply as they vanished, pursed her lips as she rolled her comb between her fingers, and continued:

_Anata ni mimamorarete_

_Watched over and protected by you…_

The young one squatted beside her, unsure of what to do next, because she did not want to go inside. The noise of laughs and coarse kisses scared her. The woman was not unkind; but what else could she do? They were prisoners there, together. They share the same fate upon this god-forsaken place, a fate that they never wanted. They had to submit to lust-hungry men. They would have to dance to them like puppets on strings. They would have to remove their clothes and bear the pain of rough touches upon their flesh. The girl was never touched – not yet; for she had barely entered puberty, but she knew that someday upon this very place, the sweet young thing would lose her girlhood. Sooner or later, the day will come.

The day will come. It could be any day. It could even be tonight.

Sensing the little one's fingers curled, the woman took her hands and opened them. There were two larger than average cherry blossoms upon each little white palm. The girl always liked flowers. She wore them on her hair like a bride, and the weary-eyed woman could tell at once that she wanted to wear them now, on her hair, as her gentle eyes shifted from hands to face of the dainty young maid. She shook her head.

"Save your beauty for your true love, Kaen-chan," she said.

The girl's ice-blue eyes widened with surprise. "But I so want to wear them," came a little reply. "They're so pretty."

With a weary heart, the woman took out her ivory-toothed comb that had patterns of hyacinths on it. She undid the girl's silky red hair, combed it to perfection and split it in two buns on both sides, sticking the blossoms on each. Looking at her little blue eyes, she sang again.

_Isshou ichido no deai_

_Tamashii ni kizan de ne_

_I remember once again, it is a miracle_

_For just one lifetime, let's meet again._

She did not belong here. She belonged someplace else. Why was fate so cruel? She remembered the day the girl arrived. Her parents were willing to sell her off to this horrible place for a few pieces of gold.

_Donna toki datte ai wa_

_Sukui da to omou kara_

_The soul, the mind; blackened; whatever it used to be_

_Love will always be our salvation_

A dismal clap and a small tug from the girl brought her back to reality. A sinister figure had appeared on the courtyard, clapping his beefy hands slowly that sounded more like striking whips than applause. He was big and rough-looking, with a fierce, merciless visage scarred at many places. His nose had a large chunk missing. He wore the battle-worn armour of a Kutou soldier, a battered looking helmet on one hand, a bloody spear on the other. The girl shrank back with pure terror behind the woman like a moon hidden in a cloud. By the time this terrible soldier entered the porch, three more prostitutes and a large, ill-clad man had already come out from inside the brothel. The prostitutes looked mortified. They knew too well that soon, one of them had to spend the night with him.

"Would it be an hour, or the night? That's our usual service here," said the man standing beside the prostitutes in an uncaring tone. A few paces away, the woman with the comb was running it through her hair again, while the red-haired girl tightly gripped her clothes from the back as she tried to hide, shivering.

"The night," replied the soldier gruffly as his spear clinked upon the wooden floor.

"Very well," replied the brothel-master coolly, looking smug as he cast a quick glance at the horrified prostitutes standing beside him. "Take your pick then."

The soldier's rough visage flickered with the smallest trace of an ugly smile. He did not even bother to look at the disgusted prostitutes lining up before him, but his gaze shifted away from them instead, directly at the woman with the comb who flinched. He reeked of death, and blood, sweat, grime; and many wars. For a moment, the singer thought that he was going to select her, but noticed at once that his eyes did not rest upon her for long. They were wandering past her, behind her shoulder, and fixed themselves upon the trembling young girl hidden at the back, shaking, by then, like a leaf in full wind. Pearly tears were trailing off her fluttering eyelids. A beefy finger was pointed at the little girl, more powerful, more sharp, more lethal than the finest weapons of the imperial army any bladesmith could ever muster.

"That one," said he in a gruff voice. "I want that little one."

The singer closed her weary eyes, allowing her silent tears to drench them as the screaming girl was pried from her and handed to the soldier's waiting arms who carried her inside. She heard the door fly shut, the screams slicing her very flesh. After what seemed ages, after she finally mustered enough courage to open her eyes again, she saw two cherry blossoms lying beside the door – the blossoms the girl wore on her hair a little while ago. Spring was over.

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Wiping her tears away furiously, Soi got up, tore through the tent entrance and marched to head Nakago off. Outside, there was an urgent hustle all across camp as last minute strategies were looked over, weapons sharpened and horses watered. The anxiety could be felt on the air, physically. But she ignored them, nor did she care. Knocking over a couple of water buckets from a stable-hand who was watering the horses, plummeted past a weaponsmith, making him drop a huge bundle of spears that scattered in all directions and ignored their dazed faces. 

Spotting the tall, foreboding figure of a huge, golden-haired figure in a cape with protruding spikes jutting out of his shoulders, her heart missed a beat. But Soi hastened her steps, biting her scarlet lips and pursed them as she reached his side. Nearby, about six dumbfounded soldiers halted their chores.

Nakago turned around slowly, his face still strangely inscrutable, though at one point of time, Soi thought she could see a small twitch. He said nothing, though, and she – still out of breath, too, stood mute.

How much longer could she keep this one sided-affair … was it true that he never really cared, despite all her hopes and fanciful dreams? Maybe they were nothing more than simple dreams after all! Maybe dreams were best left alone to the weak and the pathetic like Nakago himself had implied so many times – to the weak, lily-livered fools like the Suzaku Seishi.

If Nakago noticed the small pearly stains of tears upon his sad lover's fluttering eyes, he responded to it the same way he had always done in the past – with a fixed, but neutral expression that looked completely devoid of all emotion and the secrets stored inside his heart still secure and unexposed. Strangely enough, he did nothing to counter her hand as it rose to his pale skinned cheek to caress it gently. The watching soldiers quickly resumed their chores when they saw the Shogun's menacing glare upon them. When he turned back, Soi's loving hand was still raised to his face, tracing it from lips to chin, tracing it to his collarbone and stopped at his ear as Soi felt his earlobe with her fingers. One of his blue-stoned earring was gone.

Nakago, after half a minute or so, took her wrist with his own hand and waved it away with a slight jerk that nearly took her breath away.

"Are you quite finished?" he asked.

She said nothing in response, but blushed crimson. The look on his face as they rested on her was as cold and smug as ever. To her, it carried the pain of a thousand knives. Nakago turned around slowly, his great cloak brushing against her body as he went. Yet, his paces were heavy, stopping at four when Soi, red faced and lips fluttering, called him back, her voice breaking.

"What would you do if I tell you," she cried, lifting her face and eyes up to the level of his head, "how much I have suffered and lost for you…?"

Nakago's hand which had come up to his sword-hilt and gently stroking his scabbard dropped to his side. Not surprisingly, the surroundings had become very quiet.

"I never asked you to suffer," said the Shogun as he turned around halfway. "And I never asked you to lose anything for me," he paused, turning his back on her again. He gave a threatening look at a timid soldier who looked on nervously at this coldness between his two commanders and saluted in a jittery fashion as Nakago ordered that his horse be brought to him. "Get a hold of yourself, Soi," he concluded – not unkindly this time. "You are a Seishi. When this is over, your reward will await you there. Do not yourself be weakened by mere emotions like those fools."

"That armor of yours protects everything," said Soi, sobbing in silence. "Your heart, your feelings; your dreams, Nakago. If you would just share them with me - then I would share with you my loss, and would gladly accept your punishment." She said quietly, tears pouring down her cheeks.

* * *

The war horns were now sounding all across the plain. The troops were ready and waiting, as well as the scarlet-clad enemy. But strangely enough, Nakago kept his eyes on Soi as her head fell to her breast. 

"It has been seven years now," she murmured. "Seven years…"

Nakago's blue eyes trailed across her curtly, but as she neither continued nor looked up, accepted a soldier to hand him his dragon-shaped helmet. Another led his horse to him. Putting his helmet on, he looked at Soi again, who looked up.

"Seven years since we first met," said Soi, her voice breaking. "Seven years since I first heard your name…"

Seven years of dreams.

They had been together for several years now. For years, she had been at his side – offering comfort and her whole for his sake. For him, she was even willing and ready to sell her soul to the devil; for he had made her a heaven out of hell with such sweet skill. But was it all a farce? What greater offerings have the gods made him, and what had the great awakening Seiryu brought out for him that he had become cold and distant, colder and more sonorous with each passing minute, now that his goal had been so near? What was his goal? Why had he been so insistent in reaching it, that he was willing to do any imaginable thing to see it end?

And … how much had she still to give, to claim him again?

As the horse was brought closer, Soi took the reins herself with her delicate fingers and handed it to him. Her eyes sadly surveyed his face, noticing his golden fringe covering half his countenance from underneath his helmet, and reached to brush it away.

"What would you do, if I tell you," said she, as he allowed her this gesture of tenderness once again, "that I … have lost something of value – something that is both yours and mine…?"

She had barely finished when a hustle from behind caught Nakago's attention and he turned away. The Miko of Seiryu had arrived. Nakago looked at the girl on horseback for a mere second, turned to face Soi again with questioning eyes, but did not wait to answer them, and mounted his horse urgently. He turned back briefly before riding off.

"I will make the gods repay," he said.

Soi breathed deeply, adjusted her armor and composure, and followed.

_Itooshi hito no tame ni_

_Ima nani ga, dekiru ka na?_

_For the one I love,_

_Now what can I do?_

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**Continued next chapter!**


	4. The Lost wish

**Warning : Canon facts a-plenty! I added them because they're crucial for my plot. You'll be seeing them all around!**

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**THE LOST WISH**

Under the bleak, somber light of the dull-grey heavens, the siege began. The soldiers of Kutou, hungry for blood and battle, rode into the fray and pandemonium with the shogun at their head; victory but a wish away. The troops of Konan anticipated this, perhaps, but were ready, if need be; to go down fighting than to stand still and be devoured like hatchlings before a pack of famished predators. It was long ago decided that the two countries were to be at war, for Seiryu himself was a god of war, and his blessings were always to be tested during battle, for they were of no use elsewhere. That was Nakago's decision. It was he who had decided this invasion, to force Konan to submit under Kutou's iron thrall – it was decided by him that this was the only way to invoke the great war-god. The god's powers were best invoked under siege and assault for optimum efficiency.

Riding at the head of his power-hungry troops, the shogun fought like a demon, misty blue wisps of his chi rising and falling with every attack, tearing, burning, ramming down enemies right and left; not unlike young Suboshi who had derived full thrill in the mettle and executed his berserker fury with smiles and shouts.

For the better part of the first hour, the troops of Kutou had the upper hand. It was true that they had always been a warrior-strong nation, the cruelty of their iron army famed the world over, no less effective in war and conquest. They had full credit for wiping out whole tribes and races; and at one time – today being not unlike that very occasion, even rose to a position so formidable that the whole world itself seemed to tremble under Kutou's grip. Pushing them back valiantly, bearing them and all their ferocities, the generals of Konan could only pray as more and more of their soldiers fell and were slaughtered relentlessly, the earth itself running red with blood.

Nakago disembarked from the fray after sending three Konan soldiers to their fates with a strong blast of chi that tore them to ribbons. The ground beneath his horse's feet was littered with armoured corpses, both of Kutou and Konan alike, jabbed and stuck at many places with swords and spears, strewn with broken shields, dead beasts and other objects of war. Yui, wrapped in a hooded cloak was standing atop a small hillock with Suboshi close by, and many thunders surrounded them.

Nakago blinked as lightning illumined his visage. Soi.

Cringing, he tightened his hold upon his reins. His free spirited animal understood his urgency all too well, and sprinted in a break neck gallop, its speed ramming its rider upon the fury of limitless air, his great cape billowing behind him; arrows whizzing beside his ear. When he arrived at the top of the hillock, he was quickly greeted by Soi – her expression strangely demure, perhaps remembering the event that took place between them before the battle; but still full ready to assist him. Coming closer, she took the horse's bridle and helped him calm the restless animal, patting it gently on the neck. Nakago's eyes trailed across her. He blinked quickly when he saw her sadness, because it was a sadness he did not know.

They were disturbed by an excited shout from Suboshi who pointed westward.

"Look there!" cried the young Seiryu Seishi.

Nakago and Soi turned at once, and saw across the somber horizon, amidst the throng of battle and banner where soldiers were interlocked in bloody combat; the arrival of several horses galloping swiftly past the tumult, heading directly towards them. Nakago's lips trailed to a half-smile as he recognized the riders, all too familiar figures : a healer, a bandit, a mage and a young girl and a proud looking youth who shared the same horse, bringing the wind with them.

"Lady Yui," said Nakago coldly, turning to the Seiryu no Miko. "Shall we now put Seiryu's power to the test?"

Three wishes. One was already made to seal Suzaku away. Their enemies were powerless. Two remain.

Nakago savoured the whet of the wind against his face.

A wish was all he needed. One simple wish.

Suddenly something else disturbed his perception – something refreshing, smelling almost like a fresh, flowery scent that entered his nostrils. Strange, thought Nakago. Why would that kind of smell exist in a battlefield?

It was then and there that he realized Soi had passed very close by him, fully immersed in combat. His eyes wandered again, all across Soi from head to toe …

Before he could react however, Soi and Suboshi had already stepped into the fray. With a brilliant blast of white-hot lightning, the female Seiryu Seishi incinerated a dozen enemies in their path, reducing them to ashes. Suboshi mutilated and killed half a dozen more, his deadly Ryuseisi plummeting through head, mouth, flesh and gut with laser precision in a trail of blood. Soi, seeing her shogun's satisfaction, smiled to herself as she glowered with pride. He was impressed.

"Look at them run!" cried Suboshi, crackling with laughter. His Ryuseisi had gone mad, shooting off in all directions as the Suzaku Seishi scattered in panic. "We have them. They're completely powerless!"

Nakago, looming, but oddly sullen-faced, was still immersed with recognition of the strange flowery scent that rose from somewhere beside him. It reminded him of that night, the night he fished Yui off the streets after rescuing her from alleged rapists. He flinched.

He lied to her. He had her convinced that she was raped. It was all a lie.

But the scent had not come from Yui. He remembered being in contact with it even before entering her chamber. It rose off the wet, misty night from the palace gardens. He remembered a black-robed figure brushing past them.

At that very moment, Soi, locked in combat, passed very close to him, sparks flying out of her hand. With a fluid, graceful motion, she leapt past him as the sky grew darker and lightning flashed with many voices, striking down enemies by the dozen. He continued to look at her, while she smiled to herself, savouring every moment of seeing their enemies on the run. The Suzaku Seishi fared no better. They scuttled off in all directions. A second brilliant bolt of lightning flashed out of the graying sky that sent one horse in a panic-stricken stupour, throwing both its riders down on the ground - a young girl, and that proud-looking youth she herself would have killed when she had the chance some days ago, but spared.

Soi kept her eyes upon the couple as they helped each other to their feet, clutching each other's arms. Nakago, as always, would have called them "fools" (within her hearing, anyway), and disregard this courageous (or foolhardy) deed of theirs to come to battle without power or prayer and prove nothing. But so in love they had been, that Soi sometimes felt that such love could indeed make heavens of hell. She sighed. Could _her_ own little love make a heaven of hell?

"Ha ha! Look at them run!" cried Suboshi. "Step back, Soi. Tamahome's mine!"

The boy had youth to add to his mettle, not to mention berserker fury as he began to take aim his deadly weapon, only to be stopped by a furious shout from the Seiryu no Miko that forced him a hasty retreat.

"They're mine!" said Yui, dismounting her horse and throwing her cloak off angrily. Her erstwhile pallid face had now become twisted with fury, her small fists clenched tight. She looked at Nakago. "Nakago, I'll grant you your wish later. I have a little score to settle with my dear friend Miaka first!" she spat.

Nakago's eyes narrowed. Like him, this war had always been a personal vendetta for the Seiryu no Miko.. Everything was self-serving. Was that why he had used her, because she was like him?

"Time to say goodbye to Tamahome, Miaka!" hissed Yui. "This is where it ends!"

Nakago flinched slightly as the girl scraped the ground with her heels and allowed a wave of pure hate to flow through her, shouting at the top of her lungs under the darkening sky, all across the war-torn plain.

"Kai-jin!"

The shogun's eyes widened when a soft shade of blue danced against them like a bright, azure star as the body of the Seiryu no Miko got enveloped under its brilliance. The wish! His slender eyes trailed all across her hungrily. A second wish had been made – and it was not his!

* * *

Yui weakly pushed herself up from her bed. Her throat had become very dry. She had been dreaming – seeing nothing but a strange blue cloud, and her form, totally bare and limp, was floating upon it. She could not even clench her fists properly. Every joint within her body was screaming.

Alarmed, she turned to the window, hearing the sound of drapes being pulled back. Warm light entered the richly furnished room of silk and fragrant wood. Her eyes narrowed as a familiar figure approached her bed.

"I see you are awake," said Nakago, taking a seat beside her. "Are you well, Lady Yui?"

"I … think so," replied the girl. "I don't remember much … but I can feel something inside me…" She looked at the Seishi worriedly. "It has happened, isn't it…?" she asked.

"Seiryu has been summoned," said Nakago, looking at her. "He is inside you now, Lady Yui."

He rose from his seat and stepped towards the window, his majestic caped form blocking the warm golden light of the morning as he stood. "You and Seiryu are now one – "said he, and turned back halfway. "Surely, you must have known of that during the summoning."

"It all seemed like a dream," replied the Seiryu no Miko, wrapping the sheets around her shoulders, cringing slightly as she lowered her head. "But yes – I remember him saying that he would grant me three wishes."

"That is the promise of the four gods," replied Nakago.

"What would I wish for?"

Nakago backed slightly, his eyes widening. For a moment, Yui thought she saw something like passionate fury upon him – something she had never seen; but as she slowly blinked, he seemed quite his normal self, inscrutable as always.

"Should I wish for victory over our enemies?"

Nakago folded his cloak at his front and looked at her. "Lady Yui," he said. "May I request you something?"

"Why – yes, of course."

"I would like you to reserve one wish for me," said Nakago with a strange glitter in his eye.

"Yes … yes. Of course. You have helped me so much – I'll gladly give you one of the three wishes, Nakago," she replied. "What would you wish for?"

Nakago looked at her, his countenance sullen, looking nearly morbid. "I would like to be immortal," he said. "I would like to be a god, Lady Yui. Can you promise me that?"

If Yui found that request to be peculiar in any way, she failed to show it in his presence, barely nodding her head, when the door flew open and a maid appeared with a half-open mouth.

"B-breakfast is served .." she said.

* * *

Soi, horrified, watched as the girl's angry voice rose in a furious shout. "Great Eastgod Seiryu, take me and Miaka back home to our world, right now!"

**Continued Next Chapter!**


	5. The Sword pierces the Silent Heart

**THE SWORD PIERCES THE SILENT HEART**

Soi's eyes moved from one form to the other as a great bolt of blue light covered both Mikos of Suzaku and Seiryu. She had never seen a wish fulfillment before, nor a power of a god at work ever since the summoning. She saw Nakago's horse rear up violently as both forms slowly faded. The shogun, totally absorbed in the event, and perhaps secretly flustered at losing a wish again, was busy patting the horse's side to calm the frightened animal. She had seen him fully immersed on a certain event before, and she knew full well that this was one of them as well. For a moment, Nakago seemed to shut off all other perception round about him as his eyes were fixed upon the event at hand.

"Lady Yui …" he said quetly.

He lost a wish. Again.

Soi, a few paces beside him, noticed, with a violent jolt that shook her heart and perception of their very foundations that one of the Suzaku Seishi – the flame-haired bandit, had drawn out a small, but gleaming sword, clenched it between two fingers and was slowly raising it above his shoulder, his eyes upon … _Nakago_, Soi saw at once with a thrill of horror; ready to fling it at the Kutou shogun.

She had no time to shout, nor scream, nor cry; no time to get her bearings together; nor apply her powers. For a flash she seemed to be a girl again – not a Seishi; a girl who can do nothing great nor grand nor noble. Her beloved was caught completely off-guard, a true rarity it must have been, in all the years she had known and loved him – so immersed he had become at the sight of the Miko's departure. Just as the sword was dislodged with a growl from the flame-haired bandit, who flung it with all his might, Soi threw herself forward, her tired limbs aching, with one great plunge in front of her beloved …

* * *

_A small township within the Kutou empire, seven years ago._

_Master!_ She cried as she ran. _Master, why do you leave me? _Her small hands clutched the ivory-toothed comb as she raced outside, fleeing from her pursuer. _Master! Why do you have to die?_

The brothel-song had become silent after the death of the singer. There was nothing left … but raw terror under its bleak and desolate roof that demanded her weak little body day in and out.

Spring had arrived again; and the cherry-tree was in full bloom. But she could no longer notice it. That was only when she had been an innocent little girl, who had a pure outlook on life .. a pure soul, and body as well. Now, her innocence had become nothing more than a faded cloud. Her "master", the good woman, the singer, prostitute and fellow prisoner had gone, died, vanished under the cold earth, leaving her all alone.

_Little bitch!_ cried the man. He was too fast for her. Kaen felt a painful tug upon her long, braided hair of red that drew her back with a jerk. The pain became sharper with the slap of beefy hands against her delicate cheeks that sent her slamming against the spreading cherry-tree. _You belong to me now! Your parents sold you! Don't you remember that, you little slut? You're here to do as you're told!_

_Master!_ Sobbed Kaen quietly, squeezing the comb so hard that its sharp teeth stung her little fingers. _Master! Help me, master! _Her captor had seized her by the collar, banging her head upon the tree. _You're supposed to please the customers and take off your clothes,_ he said. _Playing the proud little bitch, are you? Who do you think you are, anyway?_

Kaen shut her eyes in cringing fear as he drew back his hand to slap her again. But she felt nothing coming, except his hold upon her loosening. She heard a crack, a dull moan of pain, followed by the sound of a large body hitting the ground. When her tear-drenched eyes fluttered open, there lay her captor on the grass beside her feet.

A boy stood before her – a boy with hair as golden as the sunrays, wearing the uniform of a Kutou soldier. His eyes met hers briefly.

_Thank you,_ she mumbled shyly. He turned away.

_Nakago!_ said another soldier. _Time to leave. Come._

And the boy vanished.

_Nakago …_ she repeated to herself. How many times had she said that name during those seven years?

Nakago …

* * *

"Nakago.." she whispered. His face was directly before hers. Her blurry vision had perhaps not caught at that moment his horrified shock and mortified thrill at seeing _her_ take the blow … a blow meant for _him._

Soi's breath went raspy and labored. She felt something warm oozing out of her back. She felt her senses fading.

"You – " said Nakago, too stunned to say anything else, his widening eyes flashing across her back and stopped when the image of the gleaming sword reflected upon them, stained scarlet with Soi's trickling blood. At that moment, her hair unfurled and cascaded down her back, bringing along a sweet perfume – the very scent that arrested his attention a little while ago, of sweet jasmine and rose, cherry trees in spring; and hyacinths.

_A young girl slammed against a cherry tree, sobbing. A boy came out of nowhere, striking her attacker._

_Thank you, said the blushing girl._

_Nakago, time to leave._

_Nakago._

Nakago felt her lips brushing against his. He did not reply her caress, nor moved to avoid them. He felt something strange, like a lump in his throat. Something stirred inside him, raving, screaming, crying, fighting to get out; as if it had been suppressed for many, many years.

"E-ever since that day…" Soi whispered softly, tears streaming down her white cheeks, tears filled with love and pain suffering, loss, sacrifice. "Seven years ago.."

_Itooshi hito no tame ni_

_Ima nani ga, dekiru ka na?_

_For the one I love,_

_Now what can I do?_

Nakago's eyes widened more and more.

_Donna toki datte ai wa_

_Sukui da to omou kara_

_The soul, the mind; blackened; whatever it used to be_

_Love will always be our salvation_

"You're the only one for me, Nakago-sama.." she cried.

Images flickered all across her senses as her last breaths escaped Soi's lips. Images of the same golden haired boy – now a man, memories of him training, riding, rising, pictures of him in sorrow, in triumph; pictures of him coming towards her, smiling at her, taking her to his tent ….

Flashes of him kissing the Seiryu no Miko …

"This – " she whispered between her free-flowing tears. She had no reason to hold them back now. "This is m-my last service to you!"

Somewhere within her memory came a newborn's shrill cry. It died. It was his … and hers. Now it died. Her mouth hungrily trailed to utter it. It feebly moved to tell him that there was indeed a bond between them – a bond deeper, more binding than his loyalty to the Seiryu no Miko, a bond that only death itself will ever shatter. But she could not. There was something else she felt as more important, something she must now say to his face instead of showing it with her body. She had just enough strength left for this.

"_I love you."_

It was a final farewell.

With a sweet scent of hyacinths trailing the war torn air, Soi's body; now robbed of life, crumpled upon her beloved's arms. The latter's visage still froze with shock and horror.

"Soi…" he said.

_Donna toki datte ai wa_

_Sukui da to omou kara_

_The soul, the mind; blackened; whatever it used to be_

_Love will always be our salvation_

* * *

**Continued next chapter**


	6. Aftermath

**THE AFTERMATH**

The last glimmer of blue light faded as the second wish fulfillment took both the Seiryu and Suzaku no Mikos along with it. They were gone, back to their homeworld : just like that – with a plain, simple wish. All around them, the tired soldiers pressed and pushed on with the pointless war, staining steel and stone with their crimson blood.

Away from it, atop a small hillock that overlooked the vast plain stood a lone horse with a boy standing beside it. They were the last of the Seiryu Seishi.

"Nakago-sama," said Suboshi, looking at the shogun uneasily, wincing as he saw Nakago's hands stained with blood as they stretched out to keep Soi from falling, literally lifting her off the ground after catching her in mid air as she jumped. The boy's eyes widened, and had become almost hysterical. "Is i-is she..?"

"The sword," said Nakago quietly. "Remove it, Suboshi.."

The boy nodded. He bit his lips as he drew the blade out of Soi's back, flinging it to the ground. He shuddered at how deep it had gone in, for the scarlet stain was half its length.

"Take that!" he cried, plummeting his Ryuseisi at the remaining Suzaku warriors.

­­­­

* * *

Nakago gently lifted Soi to his side, propping her body against his. For now, most of the shock and mortification upon his face had faded; but Suboshi, returning from his mad assault at the Suzaku Seishi, sending them scattering away, had closely watched his actions noticed a jittery side of him that he had never quite seen before. The shogun's hands upon his bridle also seemed to shake slightly, but the boy was not too sure, and he was not about to provoke Nakago by letting him see his curiousity. He also showed some confusion at the shogun's peculiar actions in lifting Soi to his side instead of discarding her upon the ground as he would any other corpse of a soldier who had fallen in battle. Nakago never noticed the unconscious motion his hands made as it rose upon Soi's head and hair, and stroked them gently. His hands shook again as he did this, while, far across the horizon, his eyes caught a new spectacle – that of some new reinforcements joining the enemy troops, headed by what his blue eyes could make out as a stately looking youth in an armour of red and white.

What does it matter to him now?

More under mechanical reflexes than deliberate moves, Nakago ran his fingers through Soi's long red hair. The perfume that rose out of its silky smooth surface and the refreshing scent coming from behind her soft, but now cold ears entered his perception, giving him the impression that he was standing upon a garden, not a gory battlefield; or otherwise, lying in bed with her at his side …

Strange .. he had never felt like this. Never had he felt so much shock over the death of another person.

Except that one special person he had lost so many years ago …

* * *

"Nakago-sama?" 

Nakago awoke from his trance-like state with a sudden jerk, like one coming from underwater, his eyes wide open, his breathing labored. Frowning, he gazed down in response to a small tug upon his cape, and saw and remembered that Suboshi had not left his side and was still standing anxiously beside him.

"What should we do now, Nakago-sama? What happened to Yui?"

The boy looked livid and hysterical. That was his nature, the shogun knew, and was sometimes annoyed with it. But Nakago simply brushed him off, reached into an inside pocket and took out a small clam-shell with Soi still gently cradled upon his other arm. The young Seiryu Seishi at his side opened his eyes wide as the shell glowed in a soft, eerie white light, opening a window out of nothing where a different world appeared before his horrified eyes like a television screen. Nakago blinked as an image of a girl slowly appeared.

"Yui!" cried Suboshi, thunderstruck; his eyes flying from the small image of Yui to Nakago at his side in unison. "What is this … a doorway to Yui's world? Can we go through there as well? Can I join her?"

Nakago breathed deeply as he unconsciously allowed his hand to squeeze the softness of Soi's cold arms again. He remembered how soft and smooth they had always been.

As if she had never died. As if they were together again … alone …

_Alone_.

He clenched his fist, allowing his fingers to close in on the clam-shell. It had belonged to his fellow Seiryu Seishi, Tomo, who had used it before as a weapon against the Suzaku Seishi. A curious little object it was. It could open doorways to other worlds. Putting it back inside his pocket, Nakago took out another odd object from another pocket – Yui's blue bow-tie. He handed it to Suboshi.

"Yes," Nakago replied without looking at Suboshi's eager eyes. "You can go to Lady Yui's homeworld."

He blinked, running a long finger upon his ears and felt his lobe.

"I can, as well."

The boy nodded and strode off after pocketing the blue bow-tie as though it were a rich treasure. As he left, Nakago awoke once more to the realization that he was still upon a battlefield. Strangely enough, battle seemed to have left him totally, his interests upon the whole ordeal following close behind. He had been so close … to get that wish. No matter, there was still one left. The Seiryu no Miko had been stubborn. She was self-centred, blinded by her lust for revenge.

Nakago gently shook his reins, ushering his horse forward.

_Revenge._

* * *

A weary rider arrived before he could move ten paces forward, looking totally war-worn, who disembarked and saluted. The soldier seemed to find it a little odd to see the shogun cradling Soi upon his arms, but froze at the somber, but strangely melodramatic impression it painted before him. He believed that Soi and the shogun had always been a close couple, for Nakago's interests were not upon other women as far as he could remember. At one time, he had even thought of them as a married couple, but recalled his fellow soldiers laughing hoarsely at him mentioning it. The Kutou army was not a place for such gossips. Sensing his silence, Nakago glared at him. Noticing the oddity of the moment, the flustered soldier quickly regained his composure. 

"I have some urgent news, shogun!" he said. "The remaining Suzaku Seishi have fled the battlefield. They were too fast to kill – but not likely to be any dangerous threat to us. Shogun…" he paused, pursing his lips. "I-I don't understand. Even though our enemies no longer have the power of Suzaku to protect them, we have still lost too many of our troops to consider this battle for our own …"

"I see," replied Nakago vaguely. "What about our, ah, _special_ army?"

"T-they are ready and waiting, shogun."

"Then instruct the other commanders to lead them back to the capital,"said Nakago slowly. There was a strange gleam upon his blue eyes as he said this. "The war here is over. My true war begins."

"But shogun," interrupted the jittery soldier. "Our unit has received word that the emperor of Konan himself has entered this battle!"

Nakago's eyes widened slightly. The soldier thought that he could see a small twitch on his face, but the event had been too fast in coming and going for him to be sure.

"Tell the troops to proceed as planned," said Nakago. "With the death of their emperor, the troops of Konan will back away,and will not hinder you from marching back to the city to execute our final motive," he said quietly, as the wind played against his hair and cape. Soi's hair too, swayed in the breeze, bringing within his perception that sweet smelling perfume of wild hyacinths.

"And you, shogun?"

"I will face this emperor of Konan," Nakago replied. "I will rejoin you when it is over."

The soldier inclined his head. "Then you'd best leave the corpse here, shogun. I hear that this emperor of theirs is a formidable warrior – rumoured to be one of the Suzaku Seishi himself, and very skilled with the sword." He looked at Soi. Was it his imagination, or did she look more asleep than dead, cradled upon Nakago's arms? He breathed deeply. "Commander Soi's body would only get in the w-"

"That is my business!" said Nakago angrily, his sinister tone sending the soldier backing away, trembling, astonished that he had provoked his shogun so tremendously, and bowed low before him.

"Forgive me, shogun," he whispered. "Forgive me."

"Next time you ever make decisions for my actions again," said the Shogun with a menacing glare. "Your death will be slow and painful."

The sheepish soldier still bowed low and did not rise until the shadow left him , Soi's sweet-smelling hair trailing along as it went. Nakago, steeling himself, adjusted her to a more comfortable position and sprinted off across the plain in a trail of dust to meet the Emperor of Konan, the one called Hotohori – the Suzaku Seishi. All around him lay the corpses, and ravens and vultures feasting upon them. Such would be Soi's fate if he let go.

But he won't. Not this time.

He won't let go, ever again.

**Continued Next Chapter!**


	7. The Man beneath the Armour

**THE MAN BENEATH THE ARMOUR**

Kutou was falling apart, war upon every person's lips. Upon the streets of its once proud capital reigned chaos and mass hysteria with people abandoning their homes and shops, women and children huddling together in small groups, stowing themselves away at barns and bottoms of wells. An ultimate betrayal had happened. A large unit of its own soldiers had marched back from the battlefield where they had been pushing back the troops of Konan, much to the surprise of everyone within the city walls, even the Emperor himself. This group had a will of its own. They were on the side of none, they killed and plummeted their way through the horrified few who had guarded the city, and entered the palace courtyard, killing everyone within their sight, burning everything within reach.

* * *

A young maid shrieked as the bloodthirsty contingent tore through the private quarters within the palace walls. She did not understand why Kutou soldiers were returning from the battlefield, turning against their own kind, killing all within their sights. The guards within the royal palace, too seemed clueless, weak, against the battle-weary soldiers returning with their gory armour and shields and spears, and fell apart like dogs with their tails between their legs before this traitorous group. Worse, they were also tearing the harem apart, killing the Emperor's wives, mistresses and concubines within – defenseless women who had no part in this war at all. 

_What was going on? What had happened?_

Why had the very troops of Kutou who had fought so bravely, suddenly turned against their Emperor?

She kicked a falling guard aside in panic, screamed as his dying blood splattered upon her dress and threw a vase at his attacker that shattered upon his morbid face, and ran towards the porch. More screams followed from behind, and one sounded very much like the Lord Emperor himself. She clasped her ears when she heard his blood-curdling cry, followed by something that sounded like an explosion. The Emperor was dead!

More soldiers and women were running past her, screaming something about the shogun returning from battle in a strange, dangerous disposition, something about the shogun killing the Emperor and ordering the death of other lords and ministers. She shuddered as she tore through them. Did Nakago really order this sudden attack? Did he really betray and kill the Emperor?

Sensing a soldier in front of her just behind the bend, she stopped, looked around in panic lest someone was following her. The women and soldiers ran past her and disappeared around the bend, followed by a horrible sound of steel stabbing flesh, women screaming and groans of dying people.

_Lord, make it stop!_ She thought, clasping her ears. Hearing more noises from behind her, she dived behind an open door. She shuddered as a figure slowly went past her, a sinister, caped form with wispy blue glow rising from its person, with a woman hanging limp upon its arms.

Her eyes widened as it went past her. She remembered him. She remembered the woman cradled upon his arms… she remembered that rainy night as fresh as yesterday! She remembered his voice as he spoke to the Seiryu no Miko-

_I want to be immortal. I want to be a god._

She remembered his words. Is this a part of its fulfillment?

_I want to be a god … _

Gasping wildly, the maid slowly crawled back to the darkest cranny she could find, but screamed again as she felt another figure lurking there, that reached out and grabbed her by the front, clasping its hands upon her mouth. There was a small cry beside it besides her own. There were two of them.

"Where is Nakago?" said a voice._

* * *

_

Nakago emerged out the palace courtyard. There was a clutter of mass pandemonium inside, the remaining guards scuttling off in fright for fear of evoking his wrath any further. He had done it. He had ordered a special unit of troops who had left to battle the soldiers of Konan to turn back and sack the capital, kill the Imperial family, lords, ministers, noblemen – even the women on the harem, the courtesans and concubines . He had done it – after killing the Emperor of Konan himself in battle, he had killed the Emperor of Kutou as well.

The corpses of dead palace guards now lay before him upon the bloody grass, as corpses of warriors lay strewn before him not so long ago upon the war torn plain. He walked past them quite uncaring, Soi's body still dangling from his arms. Whoever of the guards left inside saw him walking off under the somber grey of the clouded heavens, his cape trailing after him, and Soi's long hair of vivid red fluttering against the air.

Not thinking about, or caring where he went, Nakago headed towards the palace gardens, and arrived at a grove of cherry trees, his head held at a steady average level, neither lower nor higher. A waft of dry breeze fanned upon his cheek, hot with the flames from the blazing buildings behind him, moving the fine strands of his golden head of hair, his eyes blurry as they continued to gaze upon a specific direction. He refused to look down at Soi, avoiding her pale, dead face for as long as he could with an excuse he had conjured for himself that such was a warrior's life, and death was all a part of them.

He could not clearly remember reaching the place, but stopped beside a large tree that blossomed in a mass of pink and white, and set her on the ground. This grove had always been quiet, fragranced at all times with various blooming flowers. The trees grew laced with the bushy vines, their white blossoms peeping from every leaf.

This was the place he first saw her, after she was brought to the palace, after he found out that she was a Seiryu Seishi. She had stood there upon that very place he was standing now, admiring the cherry blossoms. He was younger then, as was she.

Nakago looked down at Soi. He had never even realized how beautiful she was.

Slowly, kneeling beside her, he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. It was ice cold. Suddenly he gasped in pain and felt his ribs. There was an enormous wound there, where a powerful sword had thrust upon it. It was Emperor Hotohori's departing gift.

Still gasping, Nakago withdrew his hand and found it smeared with blood – his own. With a low moan, he slowly undid his armour.

_Why won't you remove your armour for me?_

He did now. He removed it before her, layer by layer, discarding them all upon the grass beside her, his great cape falling last at the heap of the pile. There was only the man left, not the armour that had covered him whole. Just the man.

His chin fluttered. His throat went dry.

_I love you._

_You're in love with a mere shadow._

_I love you._

_I do not deserve your love._

_I love you!_

Suddenly his body shook – with so much ecstatic fury that the blue gleam of chi came trailing back until it traced in soft blue lines a symbol forming upon his forehead. "Heart", it read. He bared his teeth, stood back up with shaking clenched fists and under the uncaring heavens, shouted.

When it cleared, the cherry tree before him was smoldering in flames, thousands of its silky petals scattered about his feet.

He looked down at his lover as she lay dead – dead for his sake. He knelt beside her again, and lifted her face to him. The waft of crisp, dry air that entered his nostrils smelled of burning wood fragrant in its own way. Nakago's hand still trembled as he lifted it and placed it upon Soi's pale ones, cold as they are, and his fingers caressed their softness with their tips. His eyes strayed slowly all across her body – her delicate, bare limbs as white as milk that he had seen in all their womanly beauty so many times before. When was the time he had ever noticed how beautiful they were? Or had he just ignored them, as he did so many, countless times? Now he realized the profound presence of an emptiness, the emptiness of death. He remembered her as she lived – so beautiful she had been. He never realized that he had enjoyed her beauty, or her gentility, or her love. What was it that he said to him as the last gasp of dying breath escaped her lips? Nakago shuddered as he remembered more and more, sounding all around him like pounding war-drums. No … not now… not now!

He began to bite his fluttering lip, a deep sigh storming out now and then as his unconscious fingers continue to squeeze his lover's dead hand, her head placed against his breast; against his heart.

_I love you._

_I never asked you to suffer._

_I love you._

_I never asked you to lose anything for me._

_I love you!_

Then it broke! A deep sigh of pain; over twenty years of torment and suffering, fear, sorrow … it broke open from his heart. The floodgates were lifted at last! Nakago, out of a fit of passionate sorrow, picked her up in his strong arms, wincing in pain as he pressed Soi's lifeless body against his, trying to merge once again with the life that a dead breast could no longer give him. He called her name, heartbroken; as he had called it out of pure shock at her passing; a painful sob escaping his trembling lips. He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them, moistened them with his overflowing tears, sighing deeper as they fell the moment he let go of them. He kissed her lips, remembering them trembling as they kissed his before she fell; becoming more heartbroken when he realized that they no longer replied his caress.

So, this is the price, he thought. This is the price of love. This is Heaven's gift - a dark, cold Hell. He fought his tears away furiously. They trickled off his chin, splashing upon her forehead. He was afraid to love again. He had made a mistake before – his mother had heavily paid that price. Love, for him, brought nothing but pain … and death. Death.

­­­

* * *

He remembered an evening they had shared together after a particularly fierce battle which they had won. He had pretended to be asleep, listening to her singing softly beside him, playing with his long, golden hair. He could feel her smiling as she traced his naked back with her fingers. 

"_Itoshi hito no tame ni, _

_Ima na ni ga, dekiru ka na?_

_For my beloved, what now must I do?_

_Kana wa nai yume ga nai yo!_

_There is no dream that cannot come true!_

Do you love me, Nakago-sama?"

He heard her giggling to herself, probably imagining his reply. He could picture the very look upon her lovely face, though he never saw it.

"Why, of course I love you, Soi-chan." she said, blushing furiously. "See this heart here? Don't you see that it has your face on it, you naughty girl?"

* * *

As more tears rolled down his cheeks – tears that had pursued him for over twenty years of misery, Nakago closed his eyes, his lips moving again, bringing forth a somewhat audible whisper this time. 

"I … love you …"

To which he added softly, "…Soi."

That was the answer he finally gave her, after all these long, long years of neglect. But it was too late. She could no longer hear him, no longer feel his tears falling upon her face, no longer feel his kisses. Each and every one of them would have been gifts more precious than all the treasures and wishes all the gods in heaven could have ever given her, if only she could enjoy them now. Each one of them would have been a fitting gift in exchange for her very soul she had been so willing to sell to the devil himself for.

* * *

But it was too late. 

_Too late_

_The Latestar..._

Hearing a sound of movement, Nakago looked up suddenly, his eyes still brimming with tears, his forehead still gleaming with the strange, blue symbol, Soi's head still pressed against his breast; and saw a woman standing in front of him – an old one; with a small child cradled upon her arms.

* * *

**Continued Next Chapter!**


	8. Conflict

**REVELATION AND CONFLICT **

He looked at her with morbid apprehension, his eyes narrowing as they landed upon the child in her stout arms; a bright, golden haired child. At the same time, he hugged Soi tighter against his body with his own arms. For a long time, no sound stirred between them except the sound of smoldering flames and faint shouts echoing far behind now and then as his traitorous troops seemed to have finished the remaining inhabitants of Kutou's royal palace.

Until now, there was only one woman who had caught Nakago so thoroughly off-guard; only one who had seen him deprived of all his sinister and supposedly cold appearance; only one woman who had ever seen a tender side of him; and that was the woman who now lay dead upon his arms. Deprived of armour, a flesh-wound at his side, and even tears still glistening upon his eyes, it was a strange sight indeed provided by a man who was respected and feared all over the empire; much more than even the Emperor himself, true. Here, he seemed nothing more than a man, with no specialty; not even a shogun, let alone a great Seishi; only a man who was capable of crying – a broken man, broken because he never did the things he should have, nor spoke certain things he ought to. His watcher, the old woman, too, looked totally haggard, her long graying hair all loose and tangled, her dark robes billowing, and the child upon her arms gurgling; her failing eyes opening so wide that it seemed as if they were pried. She had a half-open dry mouth, searching for unknown, unheard words as they fluttered madly. As her eyes wildly flashed upon the woman at Nakago's arms, she whispered.

"M-my lady…!"

Nakago frowned at her and clutched Soi tighter as the old one slowly dragged her feet towards them.

"It…it can't be!" she uttered. "She isn't … _dead_! No, no…"

She stopped at five paces, her stare still transfixed upon Soi, her old eyes brimming with tears.

"No… no..." she whispered. "No…! Not now! Not before she knew…!"

Nakago glared at her, slowly raising his free hand towards the woman, a blue, gleaming light blaring from it. _Come any closer_, thought he … _closer…_ But the woman halted, squeezing the child upon her arms.

"This is all my fault…" she sobbed. "My fault... mine!"

She fell on her knees, Nakago's hand still transfixed upon her, falling as she fell, the blue light intensifying. But before he could proceed with whatever he was planning to do to her, a sharp sting on his ribs halted him and he moaned in pain, lowering his head.

The child gurgled again, crackling with a cute baby-laugh, waving its tiny arms about as the midwife buried its face upon her bosom, kissing its forehead, face and hair repeatedly. "I should never have kept you to myself, dearest," she muttered, more to herself than to the child, like a madwoman. "You ... you're so beautiful! So bright, so pure … like your mother you were … why, I remember … I remember the day you were born, as if it were only yesterday … borne by a star; a beautiful, sad little star; my sweetest, purest, youngest little starlight…"

"Enough!"

The woman suddenly looked up, seeing the man before her, her eyes widening. But it was not fear that shook her senses in an instant, her eyes madly flickering at him, his hands, his face, his hair.

_His hair._

"You!" she cried, like one waking suddenly from a drunken stupor. How could she be so foolish not to realize this? "It was you! It was _you_ all along!" she screamed, getting back up on her feet with so much fury that the child, scared and shaken, began to cry. Its voice softened her, and she quickly lulled it, rocking it on her arms. "Hush, hush, sweetheart…" her erstwhile furious voice lowered to a whisper. "Hush…"

Suddenly, she felt her joints stiffening. In an instant, her whole body had become rigid, the crying child on her arms falling on the ground with a small thud. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped her mouth. The child screeched wildly as the midwife was thrown over fifteen feet through the air and slammed upon a cherry tree, her tired bones crunching with the impact.

Nakago rested Soi gently upon the grass and stood up.

"Never," said he, his countenance darkening with morbid passion, tears still glistening upon it, strangely enough "use that tone at me, witch."

The midwife angrily pushed herself, moaning in pain, but feeling a sharp slash upon her spine; she could barely move. The next moment, she found her body being propped upright; both her arms spread wide open like one being crucified, as an unseen force rammed her against the tree. Her dimming eyes saw the Shogun standing fifteen feet away, glowing in a dangerous shade of blue, with flames dancing behind him.

"Go ahead, and kill me then," she whispered. "I deserve it … for making my lady believe that she had lost a child. I deserve it for stowing the child away for myself … the child of the great Shogun..."

Nakago lowered his head and head slightly, and his cold blue eyes flew towards the child crying on the grass a few feet away, past Soi's body. His eyes flickered for a few seconds, but he looked away quickly.

"Liar!" he said coldly.

"I-I delivered it myself," sobbed the midwife. "I never told her - she thought it was dead... shogun…"

Nakago looked at the hanged woman in disgust, ready to debunk her in the worst possible way; but the truth was screaming at his face far louder than words ever could. He looked at the child again, and then at its "mother", lying cold at his feet.

"Liar…"

* * *

She came running into his tent, laughing wildly, her lovely silken tresses of red waving after her. He was busy looking at some military papers, but looked at her in surprise as she flung herself upon his bed in a fit of mirthful laughter. 

"Soi," he said, slowly folding up his papers with a slightly exasperated voice. "What have I told you about using that ridiculous, girlish giggle?"

She sat up and tore at the bedclothes, still shaking with laughter.

"Your soldiers are more gossipy than I thought, Nakago-sama!" she cried. "Imagine! Soldiers gossiping like women…." She laughed again, tears trickling off her eyes.

Nakago smirked, placing his hand on his hips, studying her.

"I-I actually walked into them-" she continued, after a long pause, "placing bets on wh-ether I am pregnant or not pregnant… one of them actually put his _wife_ on the line if it's not a golden-haired-"

Nakago swooped over her quickly and placed his hand on her mouth. She looked at him with surprise, removing it and pressing his fingers on her red lips. She then gave him back his hand.

"I was going into the part of me giving them the fright of their life with one little bolt, Nakago-sama" she complained. "Now you've ruined everything."

_That was before the Seiryu no Miko came into the world._

_The Seiryu no Miko changed everything…_

_She gave him the promise of a wish…._

* * *

He walked past Soi in slow, sullen paces, towards the child still sobbing from the impact of the fall, thankfully in no serious injury, and drew out his sword. 

"NO!" came a desperate cry from the woman hanging from the tree, with a shout that sounded now as a last, desperate plea for mercy. "Don't kill _her_! Kill me, shogun … don't kill _her!"_

Nakago pointed his sword at the child sitting on the grass, who looked up at him, sobbing. A child with gleaming golden hair …

God! She's so beautiful.

_What would you do if I tell you that I have lost something of value…_

She had Soi's beautiful face and skin.

_Something that is both yours and mine?_

She had _his_ bright, golden hair…

"You.. you can't kill your own _daughter!" _came a shout from what seemed to be far, far away; another place, another time, another world… "You were the one who gave her life!"

God, she's so beautiful. Just like her mother…

Nakago tensed, gripping his sword harder.

_God_

_I want to be a god…_

"You were … the one .." the plea faded.

_Something that is both yours and mine.._

_I want to be a god.._

* * *

**Continued Next chapter!**

**New locations, new job; I'll update as soon as possible!**


	9. Dreams are forbidden

**Note: **_Sorry about the long, long, looooooong delay. Thanks for your comments and everything. Yes, I'm still alive, and yes, the story isn't finished. So let's pick up from where we left off! Here goes…_

**DREAMS ARE FORBIDDEN**

_Don't…_

His mind was a race of blurred images, his soul close in pace behind with a screaming fit. His sword raised high above his head, his bloodshot blue eyes transfixed upon the infant near his feet.

But he hesitated.

_Shaking…_

_His sweat dripping from his body…_

Why had he hesitated?

When he ordered the execution of the Imperial family.

And thrust his arm through the body of the bastard emperor without remorse.

And savoured his gurgles and gasps for life. And pleas for mercy. And ignored them, that felt as good as a draught of sweet, red wine. And blew him to bits with but a release of his mighty power.

_Without remorse._

Payment for a lifetime of pain. And lost childhood.

So, what was taking him so long to bring his sword down with but a swift slash and be rid of his past for all time?

_Bastards_, he said.

Bastard…

Suddenly he felt foolish. Weak. Pathetic. His stance froze in mid air, his stare fixed and pasted upon the unseen. What was he doing? Raising his weapon at a child…. A _child!_

His child…

_Liar!_

She had her mother's face.

_Lies!_

And her father's hair. Her father. Gold-tressed. Blue-eyed, angry father; bad father; who wanted to be a god.

The child was no longer crying. She looked up at him with big, bright eyes that reminded him of a clear summer's sky. Her image was mirrored upon his sword, and yes, she smiled. Smiled, holding up her little arms to him.

Smiled at the man with the sword… the big man… the father… the bad man, who wanted to be a god…

Nakago's blade, jittery as it was, lowered ever so slightly. His hands began to shake, his bared teeth gritted, his face misshapen. A small growl escaped his lips as the weapon fell to the ground, the child's gaze upon it, chuckling with wonder as the weapon stuck itself upon the grass near her father's feet.

He turned away quickly with a long exhale, and more sweat poured down his face. His back was on them. Any second, he might change his mind.

Sounds of hustling feet were now entering the grove – that of scurrying soldiers. Traitorous soldiers and mercenaries they were, who had betrayed their own emperor. Who had followed Nakago's every command and lashed their swords without any inhibition at the flesh and blood of Kutou. For they were not of Kutou origin, but had only entered its imperial army for their own ends. And Nakago had promised them something better, and yes, he had led them back from the war with Konan, to betray his emperor.

_His Emperor…_

"We thought we might find you here, Shogun," they said, kneeling before him. "What are your further orders? We've left none alive of the Imperial family, Lords and Nobles, all the Cabinet Ministers as you asked…"

"Look!" cried one, his eyes flying at the little sitting body near Nakago's feet. "That kid must be one of the Emperor's heirs!"

The hanged woman froze with horror as he drew out his sword before she could even blink. "I'll finish the little bastard in a sec-"

The midwife would have screamed greater than she had ever screamed before in all her life, if only she could. But whatever cries that escaped her mouth were engulfed by a furious blast of great blue light… light so bright that she could not keep her failing eyes open. And when it cleared, the Shogun still stood, his right hand outstretched, a gleaming blue symbol on his forehead, and blue light leaking off his form. And the child was still at his feet…

And the ashes of the incinerated soldiers smoked with a strong smell of human flesh and bone, and metallic armour burning.

* * *

He slowly discarded his gaze off her face with a frown, but Soi thought that his manner was teasing somehow.He returned to the table and started rolling up the military papers.

"Well?" she cried with a pout. He stopped, but he did not turn around.

"Well – what?" he asked slowly.

"Doesn't that affect you in any way, Nakago-sama?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Soi," he replied, still refusing to turn around and face her as he resumed his business. "Why should I be affected by men who placed their wives as bets because of a rumour they themselves started about their commander being pregnant? It's all nonsense without a fragment of truth. Pure nonsense!"

"I wasn't talking about the men!" she exclaimed, her lovely bosom heaving with frustration. "Doesn't it matter to you, or mean anything to you, that I may, or may not be actually preg-"

"Soi!" he said, turning to face her with his face darkening with mortified shock. "That is the most absurd thing I have ever heard. _You_, pregnant at this time, _you_, a Seishi of Seiryu, a warrior, Commander of a great army; when _we_ still have to gather up the remaining Seishi, when we have to wait for the Seiryu-no-Miko's arrival?" he lectured. "Are you out of your mind, Soi?"

Soi's head lowered. Her falling bangs concealed her blush. And in that moment, a girl's dreams are over because a Seishi is not allowed to dream. She must live for Seiryu, and not start a life of her own.

"I was only wondering how you'd feel if it were true, Nakago-sama," she said quietly. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

He frowned at her, shoving the papers inside a trunk, and slammed the lid shut.

"I believe one Nakago is quite enough for the gods," he replied, and after a slight pause to see if she looked up, (she did not); left the tent.


	10. Nakago's Promise

**NAKAGO'S PROMISE**

The woman sobbed softly. The smell of burnt human flesh was strewn in the hot, windy air that rammed the remaining cherry trees, tearing them apart of their pink petals that scattered all across the remaining concave of sky unscarred by the smoke and ash. She would have looked up as she felt her bonds loosened, and she crumpled down on the grass, but she dared not. Nakago, dangerous as he was then, might still move in for the kill. The soldiers had provoked his anger and pushed him far enough. But anything could happen – still.

Sensing no movement or sound, except the soft chuckle of an infant, and the sound of cherry trees aflame, the midwife slowly looked up, her aging eyes dimmed and fast fading. Everything seemed to burn before her, the great tree at the back, the looming, dark figure of a man standing at her front, and the remains of dead, burnt soldiers smoking a few paces away. Soi's body and the child lay at the center.

Nakago, strangely enough; looked somehow incomplete – robbed of his general impression of majestic valiance, now stripped of all his armour, for one who had requested of him. But its fulfillment was all in vain now, for she was dead. Yet, his body glowed with an angry blue mist, the symbol upon his forehead still glowing and unbroken, as intense as light before darkness. He slowly wiped the dampness of his cheeks as he turned back, and his eyes fell once more upon the waving child before his feet, but he said nothing. The child's mother was beside her, her hair loose and strewn all over her body, her breastplates and shoulder-pads gleaming with the flicker of flames. In the light of the dancing red flames, Soi looked more asleep.

As if she had never died. As if she had been sleeping at his side.

He quickly turned away and placed his hand upon his ribs. He felt them wet, warm and sticky. It smelled of blood. The wound was deeper than he had thought, for the sword that was stuck upon it during his battle with Hotohori was no mere weapon as he could tell or know. That left him badly wounded and losing his powers by the second, but as always, Nakago considered himself aloof from these trifles. It was weakness, he had always thought. Weakness of men, who also succumb to their own desires just as easily, and it was like choosing to have a life as mortal, with a wife and children and dying after a time; until the world changed and his name went away from all memory like a small hole in the endless universe. But gods, emotionless or untouched of these affairs as men as they may be, have the power to shape the world, transform life and existence and endure forever. Forever… to keep on working, doing, thinking… _being…_

To be. Just to _be_…

He felt lightheaded all of a sudden. He had lost too much chi with the flesh-wound, for a Suzaku seishi had grazed him, and it was no mere cut. He had lost much more when he stormed the palace and blasted the Kutou emperor away into oblivion. The midwife could hear Nakago breathing louder and becoming more erratic and understood at once. The shogun was not in topnotch condition.

"Child!" she cried, pushing herself up and grabbing the golden-haired baby. He did not stop her.

But stared at her with narrowed eyes. Like a man in a dream.

* * *

He always enjoyed the soft hum of the morning breeze as it played against the tent-flaps the moment his eyes opened to see the new day for the first time. With a small moan, he elbowed himself up, narrowed his eyes, and gazed down at the sleeping figure beside him. She was cradled against his chest, her flowing hair covering his, and her own nakedness, wrapping them within their own little private world. With a small smile that traced across his lips, he pulled the quilt back on top of her, and whether it was from this warm gesture, or some happy, unknown dream, she smiled in her sleep; he did not know, but she smiled all the same, as she – half asleep, grabbed him by the wrist and placed his arm across her chest, bringing his hand to her lips for a sleepy kiss.

His smile faded ever so slightly as his lips closed. He was surprised at how much he had enjoyed their night together; and how stronger he felt afterwards. This is only but one of the many times he had made love to Soi, not simply to raise his chi, to revitalize him, but for enjoyment in being with her as well. Strange he used to think, for this was not 'business'. It never was. It was love, which he had not known at the time.

Nakago gently detached himself from Soi's embrace and tucked her back in after a reassuring kiss on her fluttering eyelids. As he put on his clothes, his eyes were upon her, as he slipped on his armour, fastening it, layer by layer, upon his body, and his face changed before he turned away, now fully dressed.

"Nakago…?"

Nakago stopped His hand was already upon the tent-flap, half opening it. He gave a small sigh, but did not turn around. Soi's eyes opened and she sat up as well after a small moan, the silken quilt falling off her naked body, shielded only by a thin curtain of hair.

"Yes, Soi," he replied without looking at her.

She looked at him with a gaze she used for him, and him alone – something sort of a shy, but repressed meekness infused with love, respect and devotion; and want; intermixed with a small tinge of fear.

"What if…" she halted, looking down at her own body, blushing like a bride as she grabbed the quilt and covered her chest. She looked up at him again. "What if I get… pregnant?"

Silence lingered for several minutes without motion. It was as if time itself had stopped, yet he did not turn around to face her, nor did he take his leave or lift his hand from the tent flap.

"I..I know it sounds absurd," she continued. "I know it's never happened before. But I have a strange feeling about it… I had a dream last night."

Silence again.

"I had a dream…I was there, with you; and there was a little child…"

"At least that means one of us is sleeping well," he said, turning around halfway. "But take care never to mention this to your troops, Soi. The Seiryu Seishi are warriors. Not dreamers, or fools, like the Seishi of Suzaku."

He turned away again, the breeze from the entrance running through his hair.

"So, because I am a Seishi, I am not allowed to dream, am I?" she said.

"Or to have children," said Nakago. "We live to serve Seiryu and his Miko, not to serve ourselves."

There was a strange bitterness in his voice as he said this.

"It is very unfair," she said. Nakago started.

"Life itself is unfair, Soi," he whispered, and his head lowered just a little, his cape flapping with a sudden wind. If he had turned around to face her, Soi would have noticed the colour fading off Nakago's cheeks; and she would have kissed them. But Nakago was a man with a closed heart, a man with armour that covered his body as well as his soul. He was just a man. Whether he lives or dies was the will of the gods, and not his own, the same way his life had been shaped and molded by the great powers unseen. "But I assure you, when the Seiryu-no-Miko comes to this world, and Seiryu is summoned, we ourselves would rise like stars at twilight. That will be all. No more, no less."


	11. God made the Armour

**GOD MADE THE ARMOUR**

He leaned against the tree, wincing in a silent pain as the midwife turned him to his side. His wound was as fresh and raw as ever, slowly sapping away his strength and powers. She lifted his shirt and looked at it and bit her lips.

"It's very deep," she whispered. "It'll need a few stitches, Shogun. If only I have my kit with me."

"I don't… need stitches," said he, brushing away her hand, but stopped with a groan of pain as the opening wound sliced his thigh like a knife.

"Keep still!" she said sternly. She was no longer afraid of him. "You'll bleed to death if you remain like that."

Within the next few minutes, the bleeding was temporarily plugged with a dirty length of material the midwife had ripped from her own robes, much to Nakago's disgust (not that he had much choice in the matter). He could not understand fully why he had felt so weak, for this was not the time, when he still had so much to do. As he allowed the woman to dress his wound, he suffered it silently, cursing the fool who had done him such harm, who had charged at him with an enchanted sword, and who he had underestimated a little too much.

Nakago reconstructed the scene within his mind's eye – a hot, dry desert of a hill, warring troops to the right and to the left; he himself riding his restless horse, with Soi's body leaning against his chest. A single horse came to meet him, its rider of regal bearing, son of kings and emperors; clad in leather and scarlet, a great, long sword flashing at his side.

It was the emperor of Konan, a Suzaku Seishi, his enemy; a mere youth with few years behind him with little experience to boast of.

And he charged, his sword out, his face furious. Nakago's chi rose to meet him, while tightening his hold on Soi with his other arm.

* * *

He moaned quietly. He had lost too much chi when he killed Hotohori. He had lost it again when he murdered the emperor of Kutou too. To see this through, he must recharge.

Nakago blinked his weary eyes. He needed _her_.

"The bleeding won't stop!" cried the midwife in frustration. Nakago said nothing, not even looking at her. He began to feel a little lightheaded both from loss of blood and chi, but with teeth gritted and fists clenched, he remained adamant. Strangely enough to his surprise, he did nothing more to the midwife and quietly complied as she nursed him with as much care as she could give.

He needed _her…_

"You mustn't battle again, Shogun!" begged the woman. "I don't know how to treat this, and you're losing blood every second." She sounded concerned, strange for him, against the fact that a few minutes ago Nakago had sent her slamming and hanging against a cherry tree. His tired blue eyes looked at her for several seconds, unblinking, before they closed; and opened again wearily as they now vested upon a little scene only a pace away. Soi's body lay amidst a mass of pink petals, as if in deep sleep; and the golden-haired child was beside her.

Nakago blinked as the curious child groped around Soi's body, touching her cheek with her small hands. The child smiled again, and Nakago gave a deep, silent moan as a burning feeling rushed to his chest.

The midwife, noticing his fixed stare, too followed suit and looked at him again kindly, pulling his shirt back to cover the bandaged wound.

"I was there when she gave birth, shogun," she whispered. "Your name was all she could say," she paused, turning away to avoid his wide-eyed stare, and sighed. "_Nakago_… _Nakago_, she said. And I knew that she loved you so much… that your name gave her the strength to go on."

Nakago was only vaguely immersed. He was struggling to keep from passing out, placing his hand upon his ribs. Blood still flowed freely, drenching its ragged dressing onto his hand, soiling it. His powers too, seemed to flow out of it as well. Too long had it been since he recharged, with Soi's help, but he had used it all in the battle, against the enemy emperor, against his own emperor, and his own soldiers, the wound sapping it, robbing him of it. Rejuvenation would take time, and rest. He was in no position to have either of them, while every second that passed whisked away his remaining powers. An ironic thing it was, for a man who had yet to celebrate his victory over all his enemies that very day.

"Of course, I understand how you feel," the woman continued gently. She was trying to keep him awake, noticing the wane upon his eyes. "What happened in the past, what we did… what we didn't; is very overwhelming sometimes.. a lot of times." She looked at him closely, placing a hand upon his shoulder. "The problem is, we can't change it. It makes and shapes our present. It is a part of us, that we just can't run away from. It becomes either a crown, or a scar."

"Shut up!" he interrupted sharply, though his angry glare upon her was dimmed and faded, and was in no position to scare or intimidate her as he had intended. "I… don't need your charity."

"Everybody needs a bit of charity from time to time," she snapped, ignoring him. She knew that a hale and able Nakago would have killed her at once, for he had spared her before; and would not do so again. He pushed her away roughly and jerked himself off her hands, but staggered and stumbled near the foot of the great tree as he coughed blood and spittle. Even the child looked up in surprise, but the only sound that followed was that of the burning trees and the spitting ash.

"You have too much emotions bottled up inside of you!" she said. "Anger, fear, love, hopelessness. You hid behind wars and murders! My lady was not the one to keep it all in," she rushed to his side angrily and helped him sit up. Nakago complied silently. "You, on the other hand, Shogun;" she said, looking at him gently, placing her wrinkling hand upon his heart, "you have stored it all in here. Right here. You have covered it with a thick layer of impenetrable armour that only you could remove."

"God made the armour," said Nakago.

"God?"

"The armour, that is my body; my life."

She started back, but ignored his whisper, for his breathing had now become labored and raspy. The midwife got more worried for his condition was worsening by the second, and the crimson stream was ebbing off his side like a small brook.

"I wasn't meaning to mention God," she said in frustration. "You're only trying to wheel yourself away from the subject. You realized that you love her too. You love her more than you could ever know, or imagine."

The effect was instant. Nakago's barely open eyelids widened once more with an angry glare at the woman. His lips fluttered to form a snarl, but so weak and feeble it had become, that they were hardly noticed. Before he himself even realized it, his hand flew out and grabbed her throat, but a second later it loosened and dropped back down at his side.

"Of course you love her," said the midwife, tears now streaming off her eyes. "But you kept it all inside your heart, until it was… too late." She broke into a soft sob as she, for the first time in a long while, looked away from his eyes. "Why have you kept it in? What do you fear, Shogun? What do you fear?"

Nakago closed his mouth firmly.

_It was because of God._

_But he did not fear God._

_It was because of God._

"_Stars at Twilight?" asked Soi. "What does it mean?"_

"_Stars rising at the first opportunity, Soi," he said. "It is like being gods upon a realm where nothing, not even life, will ever again cause pain."_

_She gave a little laugh. "The gods have it all to themselves, haven't they, Nakago-sama?"_

_Nakago gave no smile in response._

_ The gods have it all to themselves. _


	12. Sixteen years Ago

**SIXTEEN YEARS AGO**

The cold winds of Hokkan had escaped through the rocky mountain passes upon this northern borderland of Kutou country where two figures silently trod one mild autumn evening. Both attired in robes of dusty-brown, one was a woman, tall and slim, her hooded cloak covering her whole head and half her face. She had golden ringlets like strands of pure gold that cascaded down her burdened, but nonetheless fair face that looked almost snow-white. The other was a small boy in similar apparel, who looked about eight or nine of age, whose small, fair hands clutched upon the reins of a great white horse that he led beside him. His skin and hair mirrored the woman's, and at first glance he looked almost a younger version of her.

The woman with pursed lips and masking of her face with a brown veil gave a deep breath of forbearance as the small Kutou village came into view, flickering in the distance. She had pre-advised her son, the boy; to keep his head low and not speak as they approached the village, because, as she had explained to him; the people had racial impertinence on them that he was by far, too young to understand. It had something to do with God, the boy knew, and something else to do with being different.

The horse wavered unsteadily as the boy's small hands shook. It had bags upon its back, filled with certain things that they were hoping to sell for a considerable price. Things had been hard because the boy's mother was a widow and sole supporter of the family, and these were difficult times, with hatred breeding within the country that had gone from bad to worse.

They have heard some rumour that Kutou had thoughts of expanding its land, and that meant that relations would further disintegrate, bad as it was. They were of a small tribe : different appearances, different customs, different gods. Racial prejudice was strong, but trade relations were all they had got to keep from starving. As they entered the locality, the air seemed colder because of the curious gazes and hushed voices vested upon their direction as if they were strange relics of a long forgotten race that had suddenly resurfaced. The children were especially fierce-looking – a rowdy bunch of black-haired urchins who leered at the boy and his horse as if he was some pathetic angel thrown out from Heaven. A small crowd had gathered by the time the party stopped outside a merchant-shop, and the boy began to unload the leather bags on the animal's back.

The merchant was particularly interested in the stately outlines of the woman's form which he followed with lusty gazes as she unpacked the merchandise on the counter.

"Wait outside, dear," she told the boy in quiet tones. The boy looked at her uneasily. There was fear embedded upon his large blue eyes that did not want him to obey her and leave her side because of all those unfriendly-looking people standing outside, but his mother's sad eyes insisted that he should leave, and he did.

"Jade, hmm…" the merchant began in a silky voice, holding a green necklace up carelessly. But his eyes were upon the woman, stopping at the soft rise of her breasts as she heaved. "Not very good. I could get better stuff than this at Konan for half the price." He continued scouring around inside the woman's leather bags and took out one item after the other: pots of herbs, a small roll of silk and some pottery. "You'll never get anywhere with these, Matuta-dearie. I get complaints all the time. It's pathetic to know that Hin merchandise is absolute rubbish, but I try to get by, because it's you."

"It should be worth something," said the woman quietly, holding the cloth mask against her face. "They're the best we've had to offer."

"Pathetic," grunted the merchant. "I'm the only one having to put up with such cheap trinkets around here. But yes… I can make more from them, for a special favour."

He looked at her hungrily, and she knew what he meant, and she trembled.

She knew that her merchandise had enough values to keep her and her son by, but the marketing was difficult because they were Hin, a hated race that according to the people of Kutou, worshipped demons. This man was the only one who agreed to buy them in exchange for a price. The offer was that she should become his mistress and submit to his sexual favours. Of course she refused with disgust, and he gave her money instead, which he hoped would wear out eventually until she had no other choice. She had been holding out for months, but he was in no such hurry, knowing that there indeed would come a time when she would have to submit to him knowing that she had nowhere else to go.

"I know they could sell for a fair enough price," she said wearily. "Will you take them, please?"

He laughed hoarsely, and she backed away in alarm.

"I know you remember my offer," he said. "One day, my golden-haired beauty, your fortunes would run out and you'd be desperate enough to give me what I asked you, just to feed that brat of yours. But I'm a patient man. I can wait longer than you think."

"Your wait will come to nothing," she said quietly. "By then, Ayuru's fortunes would be far better than yours, and I won't have to submit to your offer." And she looked at him sadly. "I came to you because I have no other choice, honoured sir, but I do not come to be your mistress."

Of course she had a beautiful body. She was a young widow… very young, only twenty five, and beauty marred by her status of motherhood alone that the hypocrites of Kutou knew all too well. She, according to them was a Hin outcaste, an untouchable. But yes she was beautiful, and fair; golden as the sun, as white as the snowy fields of Hokkan. The merchant made to grab her fist as she was about to pick up the bag of gold he put on the counter for her, but Matuta backed away in alarm, and her face mask fell off.

Outside, a large crowd was already around her son and his horse. Some were poking sticks at the pair, some agitating the otherwise well-disciplined animal with boos and hisses simply to provoke its young master while showering him with filthy insults. They tugged his clothes, pulled his hair and pinched his white skin as his mother came back outside, and she, covering her face again with the sand-coloured mask, gently shooed the Kutou children way, tears covering her eyes in a hazy film.

"Mother!" exclaimed the boy. "They were hurting him!"

"Hush, Ayuru," she whispered. "Come on – home."

She was about to lead him away from the jeering crowd, and all would have been well, but an all too familiar voice shouting hoarsely, froze the crowd upon their tracks. With a shiver, Matuta and Ayuru turned back just in time to see the merchant running out of his store, red-faced, holding a piece of gem in between his stubby fingers, brandishing it like a round wand.

"This is a fake!" he screamed. "You dare try and cheat me, you filthy outcaste bitch?!"

Matuta cringed as Ayuru trembled. She looked at the merchant worriedly, ushering her son behind her back, and all around them the people began to chant, "_cheat! Cheat! Cheat!"_ which made things all the worse. The merchant tore his way through and grabbed Matuta by the front of her robes. He pulled off her mask with his free hand, flinging it on the ground.

"I could buy fifteen nights in the brothel with the gold I paid for this garbage!" he hissed. "Give it back to me, now!"

"Y-you're mistaken," whimpered the woman, as her son panicked behind her, trying to subdue an agitated horse. The noise of the onlookers had risen louder and louder. "It's g-genuine, real… valuable sapphire, I s-wear. I..I had to trade twenty chickens … and.."

"Shut up!" he shouted, slapping her. "Shut up, bitch!"

"You leave my mother alone!" cried the boy from behind. "What's she done to you?"

The man muttered a curse as he flung Matuta upon the ground, and now focused his fury upon her son, whose small hands were busy with the frightened horse's reins. The animal was ready to run berserk any moment.

"Playing the little man now, are you? Filthy little Hin-brat?"

"I just want you to stop hurting my mother!" cried the boy. From behind the merchant, Matuta was slowly struggling to rise back to her knees, her long, golden locks messily unfurled.

"A-ayuru, no…" she whispered. "we'll just give back the money, and we'll go."

The merchant smirked and snatched the money-bag from her shaking hand. He looked slyly at the angry little boy at his front and said, "another hard day's profit," to the cheering and laughing crowd all around them. And then he did something unexpected: he held out his hand that bore the blue gem and touched the boy's flowing golden hair.

"For a mongrel of a Hin, the gods outdid themselves making you."

He licked his lip profusely, for the child had delicate features, almost like a girl's. He touched Ayuru's cheek and pinched it so hard that the boy screamed in pain. His screams were drowned out by the murderous laughter of the mocking crowd that flung pebbles and sticks at Ayuru. And then, all of a sudden the horse reared up violently, now provoked to the limit and plunged its massive hooves at the surprised merchant and kicked him violently to the ground with a terrible neigh as it tried to smash his face in. The man did not move. Blood flowed out of his mouth, and Matuta tore through, grabbed the frightened and angry animal by the reins and pulled it aside with one hand, her son's robes upon the other. They did not get far. The crowd caught up to them, snatched the screeching animal away, amidst Ayuru's pleas and cries, and proceeded to stone it, strike, stab and slice it with violent fury.

Matuta tried desperately to tear her screaming child away from the murderous pandemonium as he fought to save the animal. But it was pure luck only that they broke away into a fleeing run before the bloodthirsty crowd could come to their senses and pursue them. They ran until the horse's death-groans and the village lights faded into the distance, Ayuru still crying, kicking and screaming in his mother's arms. He had loved the horse with his very life. He loved it so much…

So much…

* * *

The moon was already up, pale and eerie when they finally stopped under the cover of the silent forest. Matuta laid her son's head on her lap, stroking his soft golden hair. Their little trip to the enemy village and their humiliation had been all for nothing.

Ayuru still sobbed softly. He was a sensitive child, with gifts his mother knew and knew not of. The horse had been a present from his father just before he was born… his father who went away while Ayuru was still inside his mother's womb. His father who never returned.

"What'll we do now mother?"

Matuta looked down at his head and bent to kiss the golden locks.

"We'll have to give up the trading business," she sighed with a pain in her heart. It was like saying they had to give up food during a famine, or water in a desert, or living in a warm shelter in the midst of a thunderstorm. "There's only the two of us, sweetheart. We'll manage," she said with a deep sigh. "Well manage."

But she knew that he would have torn clothes, no money for new ones. And the village people would kill him at first opportunity.

"Should we have a farm?"

"No… no, honey. The Kutou soldiers have seized all our fertile lands."

"Why are they so cruel to us, mother?" asked the boy, and the gentle hand that brushed his hair ceased. He got up and looked at his mother. The moonlight had made her face paler, almost like an eerie specter with sad eyes and bitten lips. "Why do they hate us so much?"

"I-I don't know, honey," croaked Matuta. "Maybe it's because we look different from them and they don't like that."

Ayuru turned away angrily. "But why would they hate us, just because of that? We don't look ugly or horrible…" and he turned back again to face her. "And you – you're more beautiful than anyone I've ever seen. Can't they see that too?"

"Ayuru!" cried his mother, holding him tight against her body that shook all over. "Don't say that again! Don't say it!" And she cried upon his confused body, bathing it with tears.

When it was over, she unclasped, and took his face in her hands, covering it with kisses. He was a well behaved boy – much, much older, much more mature than his years of some few summers, she knew. How sad she felt that his father had died so soon, how she hated the thought of him not seeing how his precious son had become so sweet, so gentle so caring… so sensitive. No, he does not deserve this life of the outcast. He does not deserve to be cursed or mocked or jeered at, or assaulted or molested – this beautiful young child deserved to be someone better, someone above the rest.

"I still don't understand," said Ayuru.

Matuta sighed as she released him. It took a lot to look away from his blue eyes. When she did, she drew a deep, long breath. "We also worship a different god from theirs," she said. "I guess they don't like that either."

"But I thought God is the same everywhere," he said.

"They don't see it that way, Ayuru."

"Is our God the true God, mother?"

Matuta looked at him, slightly surprised. She knew not where the conversation was heading, but decided to answer his every question for his sake and hers.

"Of course he is, dear."

"Then why does he let us suffer like this?"

His mother half opened her mouth, but no sound came. Only lingering silence.

"He can't be a very good God," continued Ayuru, more to himself this time. "He must be someone who just does whatever he likes. That's all a part of being a god, I guess."

He shrugged.

Matuta closed her lips.

"It must be really something else, to be a god," said Ayuru. "If I were God, I'll take good care of you, mother." And he looked at her, and she looked back at him, her tears now in a free-flow. She pressed him against her breast again and sobbed. He looked at the forest in front of him while feeling her thumping heart with dry, moisture-free face, and his sapphire-blue eyes trailed upwards until they stopped at the starry skies above.

_God is in heaven,_ he thought. _Not on earth. Maybe that's why bad things happen to us._

***

**Author's Apology:** _Sorry for the long, long delay. This Writer's Block, It's killing me, but hope it can all be overcome, with all your help. Thanks for the support._


	13. Pyre

**PYRE**

It was a strange feeling. Fear. He had never looked at it that way before. Certain nights, even with Soi at his side, he had this sense of fear, only a small touch or tingle of it, but fear; nonetheless.

It was fear of the dark, the great unknown night, fear of failure, fear of being everything he loathed all his life. Fear of accomplishment, sometimes.

Nakago had many fears. As a child, he had feared the dark. Just to relieve himself, his mother had to accompany him out on moonless nights while the dark woods beside their village shone with a thousand unseen eyes. They seemed bent on watching him like empty, hollow shells of dark souls who waited, waited to devour him, to pounce upon him; to take him away, to take his mother away…

After he found himself as servant to the Emperor of Kutou and his mother had become a thing of the past long, long lost; he feared pain. He feared the endless trainings, the duels, the swordfights, the cuts and slices. He feared the monotony of the huge palace, its sickening incense fumes, and its giggles of concubines and snickering of rough-faced men. But a man with a closed heart does not scream out to the world, does not say "_I am in pain_!" or "_I am afraid_!" but keep it all in, all to himself. Pain worked from the inside. It was like an endless abyss of distortions, vortexes and tumults encased upon a golden shell, a shell with thick armour that rode out in battlefields and killed and slaughtered with a face devoid of expression and emotion.

It was a golden shell who had not said "_I love you_" enough, until it was too late. It was a man covered with armour, armour made by the gods who had not said _I love you_ in time, and it was too late.

Too late. She was dead.

_She_ was dead as well.

And his blood trickled out of him like a river of red. His face became paler, his eyes closed, his life succumbing into darkness of the void. But Nakago still laughed at the irony. He still had an unfinished score to settle with the Suzaku Seishi. He still had to pursue Lady Yui and demand that promised wish. He still had to be a God; the one unfinished task which would be the greatest of them all. But why was he laughing? Was it because he thought it would be so easy in threatening Lady Yui to surrender that wish to him, or that being a God meant that much to him? He laughed again. A broken man. A bleeding man, a dying man who wanted to be God.

* * *

_He heard the boy sobbing profusely, the remaining half of a pair of twins. Brothers. Warriors of Seiryu... He saw the Miko wrapping her arms around him; fellow sufferer. Nakago cursed Amiboshi, the fool for failing, allowing himself to be killed by the enemy in such a useless manner. When a half of a pair had gone, for the other half that remained, it was as if part of it had died along with the one who went into the grave, and it was no longer complete._

_He sensed Suboshi's anger. He felt every pulse of his rage, his throbbing hormones; ready to tear apart the Suzaku Seishi in a flood of hate and fury._

_Revenge…_

_Life for life. _

_Yes, that was the way of the gods from the beginning. Life for life._

_And that was what he did when he allowed Suboshi to exact his revenge upon Tamahome for the murder of his brother, his only family. Family for family. Blood for blood. Life for life. It was the way of the gods … after all._

_After all. The way of the gods._

_

* * *

_

Suddenly he felt a warm, gentle assurance. He could no longer open his eyes, for he had long submitted into a tired sleep with an unfinished task, sleeping in the midst of a burning, broken land. He felt warm. He felt softness, gentleness… innocence, compassion that made him think of death, for it was true that he was about to die, because of his wound from the sword, his exertion of furious onslaught of power that robbed his remaining life drop by drop. Nakago heard the woman's voice without registering her words. He felt something soft, almost like Soi's body against his when they were together in their own private world where wars and hate and Seishi and gods did not exist. He gave a deep breath, like someone coming up from underwater, saved from drowning, felt the sting of pain upon his ribs fading into gentle warmth.

He opened his eyes, tired, but strangely relieved. He gave a start when he saw the child cradled against his body, her clothes red with his blood. He backed away.

"What the…?"

But the child approached him, clung to him, and he felt all right. His wounds were healing.

"I didn't know she could do that," said the old woman, kneeling beside Nakago, who glared at her.

"What do you mean?"

"I always thought that she had some extraordinary power, being born out of a pair of Seiryu Seishi," she said. "But it hasn't shown up for quite some time. I've begun to give up hope on that, but I guess she's got something to her after all."

Nakago closed his mouth firmly, but did not brush the child away this time. He felt a strange relief. It was strange for him, for he wanted to hold her, take her in his arms until all his pain was gone.

Fear of pain… fear of anything else to fear, that he had never disclosed, or ever will.

And much to the midwife's surprise (but relief, nonetheless), he took the child up in his arms and held her until pain was nothing more than a nightmare, and the child chuckled softly, as if recognizing her father – the one who made her, from whose seed she was borne upon this uncertain world, whose long golden hair she played with, whose face she touched with her fair hands, whose lips kissed her soft round cheeks of white. For the first time in long months after entrusting the care of the child upon her own hands, after seeing the pain of the mother's delivery and sadness, the midwife too, smiled, and at that moment, the past was no more, the future entangled upon an entity called 'tomorrow' that will never come.

With the woman's assistance, Nakago laid Soi's body upon a great pile of wood. She was as beautiful as always, looking more asleep than dead, her long red hair unfurled, her armour in place, and her white hands folded upon her chest. Her lips were still crimson, her cheeks a little pale, but lovely nonetheless. His heart burned more than the pyre as he lit it with but a wave of his hand, for his powers had fully returned. They came as small sparks in the beginning, small hot sparks of fire like fallen petals of a cherry tree that threatened to burn love away to ashes. But his face was clear and expression-free all through the ordeal. He had suffered enough. He had cried, yes; and now there was no more need to cry.

_It was the way of the gods._

And Soi's body lay among flames… long, orange tongues of destruction, weapons of gods themselves, still fair, defying the onslaught of death and destruction with her love, her suffering, her sacrifice. For the one she loved; what else could she do?

_Defy the gods. _

_Defy nature, even if it destroyed her_.

Yes… and she had accomplished it, for her lover who stood watching her from behind the scalding-hot curtain of fire, father of her child, father of the fair burden who now slept upon an old woman's arms, standing beside him – an armourless man, a man wounded, now healed, a man with an unfinished task. A man who had yet to make his peace with god.

But was _peace_ what he wanted? What is peace? Was Seiryu himself not a god of war, and had it not been because of this that Nakago decided that Kutou and Konan be at war; so that the power of Seiryu be fully manifested?

There was no peace in his heart. Every time he tried to be at peace, the winds themselves bore war.

Winds: instruments of the gods.

The gods want war.

The midwife was astonished when Nakago broke off his stance without a word and turned away. Her eyes trailed after him, followed him under the spreading cherry tree where he had dislodged his armour earlier. She widened her eyes, watching him putting them on again: the steel breastplate, the gauntlets, the ankle-guards and knee-caps, and lastly that great epaulette of protruding spikes that presented a great and terrible image of the shogun that had bewildered her so in times past, for it spoke of war and death. Nakago quietly picked up his discarded cape as well, and fastened it in place. He did not turn around. The crackling flames of his lover's funeral pyre were the only sounds that passed within that blazing grove.

And the silence broke with a soft baby chuckle. The midwife thought she could see Nakago's hand twitch with the sound, but the dancing light cast by the roaring flames left her uncertain. Still, the Shogun did not turn around, but placed a hand within his garment feeling his wound. Only a scar remained, for his daughter had healed it all. He was glad. Now he was hale again, and in full power… in full control.

"Wh-what are you going to do now?" the woman asked worriedly. "There's nothing more to be done. You are now emperor…!"

Nakago's eyes widened slightly at the last word that passed the midwife's lips, but no. His eyes are instead upon the limitless skies, strewn with ash and smoke and blazing red, but unreachable, untouchable, unending…

_If he stayed and be emperor, the gods will still be there. In the heavens._

_The sky is the sky everywhere, sang Matuta holding her son's hand._

_People are people._

_And God is in Heaven,_

_watching over the world._

_Watching over the world…_

_Watching…_

He had not noticed the ferocity of his move as he tore himself away from the grove. He did not look at Soi again, for she had died, and she had burned, and all her beauty had passed into nothing. The scent of flowers had long since faded. Instead, Nakago placed a trembling hand at his earlobe – a hand shaken with fury, and he removed his blue-stoned earring. He placed it in his palm and stared at it. Another world stared back. Another world created by God.

_God, God, God._

"What are you doing?!" screamed the midwife as a strange blue gleam spread over Nakago's body. He ignored her. He felt himself fading into oblivion, felt himself being sucked out into the great unknown; he now knew what Yui felt the moment she made that second wish, the wish that he had lost. And as the last traces of his body faded off the endless air, he thought of war. War had always been a part of his life. War had made him what he was. War had shaped his present, tormented his past, and now he was still following its path, because he knew more than anything that the shaping of his future still depended on it.

_Because the gods would still be there in the heavens, peering down upon a hapless world, he must follow the path of war._

_Because the gods would still change his life, and his possible future, he must follow the path of war._

_And because the gods had shaped his past and made him what he is today, he must follow the path of war._

_He was Seishi of the War-god Seiryu, after all._

"Where are you going?!" she shrieked. "You can't leave!"

He ignored her.

And as the blue light faded, bearing the Shogun away into an unknown world, a world he would never again return from; the midwife caught the last glance of father to child, and noticed dampness glistening from the face of the father before it disappeared into darkness.

_Because in war, those who turn back are the losers._

_

* * *

_**A/N :** So... here it is again. The story isn't over yet, but from here, you might have guessed a thing or two about it, but as I've said, it's not over until I've completed my say on it. Thanks everyone for your comments. Special thanks and love to you, **Diamond Mask** for the watch, support and all those constructive criticisms. I really appreciate them, and will always remember how much they encourage me to be better.

Well, see you in the next chapter._  
_


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